Sins of the Father
by BloodyBess
Summary: “Then you’re gonna tell me the story of the Secret Riddle?”“I guess so. But no interruptions, young boy. I’m not much of a storyteller. Now,our tale begins about twenty two years ago, shortly before the night of Queen Mousetoria’s Diamond Jubilee...”
1. Rainy Sunday

**London, 1919**

The little boy groaned, looking outside from a window.

"I just _hate_ rainy Sundays" he pouted, sitting back on a chair. He was about seven years old, with light brown fur and golden eyes.

"I still haven't met anyone who likes them, Howard" his father said quietly, without turning his gaze from the book he was reading.

The boy made a face. It was raining, his mom was away to pay a visit to grandpa Hiram and he was stuck home with his father...who was obviously reading another of those boring scientific books.

Being son of a physicist really sucked.

"Hey, dad" he called out, climbing on his father's knees "can you tell me a story?"

His father sighed. "Howard, can't you see I'm rea..."

"Oh, please!" he pleaded, giving him a poutey look "pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease..."

"Alright, alright, you've won" his dad closed the book with a sigh "then tell me, what do you want me to tell?"

He didn't need an answer: the grin on his son's face was easy to understand.

"You don't want me to tell you _that_ one, do you?"

"Well..."

"Howard. I've told you that story about ten thousand times."

"Exactly. One more time won't make any difference" the little boy said innocently.

His dad chuckled. "You have a point."

"Then you're gonna tell me the story?"

"I guess so. But no interruptions, young boy. I'm not much of a storyteller, you know."

"Okay" he promised, sitting more comfortably on his father's knees.

His dad leaned back in his armchair, then he began to tell:

"Now, our tale begins about twenty two years ago, shortly before the night of Queen Mousetoria's Diamond Jubilee..."

**London, 1897**

Olivia Flaversham sat sadly in a can, hugging her knees. She had spent the whole night wandering trough London, looking for her daddy, but she hadn't met anyone that could help her. She had tried to ask for help to a couple who was walking on the sidewalk, but they had just given her a disgusted look before get away without even listen to her.

"Beggars", she had heard one of them muttering.

Olivia closed her eyes, trying to stop her tears. She was alone, alone in the world, and no one was going to help her to find her dad. What did that bat want from him?

Maybe her dad was dead by now, and she would never see him again.

The little girl choked back a sob and stood up. No, she couldn't let herself to give up: she had to find her dad, one way or another.

But how?

Almost as an answer to her unspoken prayers, a newspaper landed just before her, carryed by the wind. She looked down, and a short article caught her attention.

"_Famous detective solves baffling disappearance..._"

* * *

A golden-eyed boy was hiding behind one of the many barrels who were around Ratigan's lair. He was about eight years old, with black hair, dusty gray fur and black nose. He scrunched his brow in confusion as he watched Fidget shoving the toymaker inside the cell-barrel. What was going on now?

He shrugged, quietly padding away. He was used to see such things happen in the sewers, and like his father always told him, it was not his business.

Besides, he was forbidden to leave his quarters without his permission. Father would get mad if he found out he did.

But, anyway, rules ar ment to be broken, aren't they?

He was sick and tired of being stuck there: he rarely got to go on the surface, and he truly missed the warmth of the sun. Sewers were definitely not a nice place, gloomy and damp as they were...but by now sewers were his home, whatever he wanted or not.

His father had taken him about two years before, after his grandmother's death. His grandmother had never truly accept him as her grandson: she had accepted to raise him just to respect to her late daughter, though she wasn't very fond on her. She often told him his mother was nothing but a fool, getting involved with such a despicable man as his father was...but she always refused to tell him his name, no matter how much he pleaded.

"He's dead, Jeremy" she kept repeating "he'll never come back. Good riddance. Why do you care?"

She was lying, but he couldn't know it: therefore, Jeremy had been very surprised when his father had send his thugs to take him, the day after his grandmother's death. No, he wasn't just _surprised_: he was scared to death. He would never forget the first time he had seen _him_ in his hideout, after being taken by his henchmice: massive and threatening, he looked like a giant to the frightened six-years-old boy.

He had looked at the trembling child with a grin, as if his fear amused him.

"Stop quivering, silly boy. I'm not going to hurt you" he had said, with a soothing and yet somehow frightening voice "now, Jeremy...do you know who I am?"

The boy had shaken his head, not even daring to speak.

"Some spoken words would be hightly appreciated, young boy" he had said dryly, staring at him with his yellow eyes as he could see trough his soul.

"N...no" Jeremy had whimpered "I don't know who you are."

"You actually can speak, then. So much the better. Then your grandmother never told you about me, did her?"

"I...I don't know what you're talking about" he had said with a shaky voice "please, sir...I just want go home" he had pleaded, though knowing there was no one waiting for him at home by now.

Professor Ratigan had just grinned.

"You _are_ home."

Since then, Jeremy had barely left the sewers four or five times, and never withouth a henchmice to look over him: the upper world was far more dangerous for him then the sewers itself.

Down there, in the underworld, he was safe. Being under the protection of the Napoleon of Crime, he was untouchable: no one would have dared to hurt him knowing the consequences.

It had taken him almost a year to learn calling Ratigan 'father', and sometimes he still addressed to him as 'sir' or 'professor', but Ratigan didn't same to care very much about it: actually, he didn't seem to care about him much more than his grandmother did.

Though reluctantly, she had kept him with her rather than leave him alone in the world, and after her death Jeremy had felt desperately alone. Weak and alone.

Maybe his father didn't love him – or at least he didn't act as if he did – but still he hadn't rejected him. Ratigan had given him a place to live and his protection when he he had nowhere to go, and Jeremy was grateful for that.

Little he knew, the day he saw the Hiram Flaversham being imprisoned into his father's lair, that his life was about to change forever.


	2. Left outside alone

**1897**

Olivia sat down in the bottle, sniffing. Her were fists throbbing with pain from her attempts to escape from her prison of glass. She had stopped her screaming hours ago, after realizing no one would help her down there.

She silently watched as the thugs went on building some sort of trap, following that rat's instructions. The little girl shuddered as she saw a human axe being added to the already deadly-looking trap.

Her eyes flashed towards the cell where her father was locked into, forced to work for that...that awful _rat. _She looked at the axe again, and her gaze fell on the uman gun. She shivered again, and she began to prey that Basil wouldn't fall in Ratigan's trap.

Then she saw something with the corner of the eye: a little boy about her age was sneaking behind a barrel, looking towards the trap.

"_Wait_!" she screamed, pressing her hands on the glass. He turned around to see the little girl imprisoned into a bottle on the floor, just a few feet from the trap the thugs were setting on.

Jeremy stopped, twitching his wormlike tail. Well, that was unusual: he was used to see many strange things happen in the sewers, but he had never seen any _child _being imprisoned there.

He glanced at the thugs to make sure no one was looking towards him, then he walked closer to the bottle.

"Who are you?" he asked, looking at the little girl trough the glass "what are you doing here?"

"He kidnapped me!" she exclaimed, pointing towards Fidged who was also working on the trap "they're going kill the Queen! You must help me!"

Jeremy blinked, shocked.

"The Queen? Are you sure?" he asked nervously, pressing his hands on the glass. He knew his father was a criminal, but regicide...that was a big deal. What was he planning to do?

"Of course I'm sure, I heard one of them say that! He's gonna kill her, and he wants to kill Mr. Basil too! Please, you have to..."

"Basil? You mean Basil of Baker Street?" he interrupted her. He did not know much about his father's businesses, but he had often heard him talking about a certain Basil of Baker street with an odd mixture of grudge, hate and admiration.

"Yes, it's him!" she exclaimed, relieved to see that strange boy knew about Basil too "this trap is for him. Listen, you have to go to warn him about this..."

Jeremy shook his heas ad stepped back. "I cannot do that" he said, padding away without looking at her "I'm sorry."

"_Wait_!" Olivia cried after him, but he had already disappeared behind another barrel.

**1919**

"So...that's really how you and mom met?" Howard asked, fascinated.

Jeremy smiled slightly. "Indeed."

Howard grinned. "Aww, you just gotta love those first impressions..."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Come on, dad, you know you should have behave differently...you should have help her!"

Jeremy raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid I was not much of a knight on a white steed at the time, Howard. Put yourself in my position."

"But you acted like a coward!"

Jeremy took a deep breath, trying to not snap. His son could be utterly annoying sometimes. "Howard, did you forget about what I told barely five minutes ago?"

"Uh...ya mean that 'no interruptions' thing?"

"Smart boy."

"Alright then. I promise there won't be any further interruption. Now go on!"

"Manners, Howard. That's not the right way to ask for something."

The little boy rolled his eyes. "Oooo-kay..._would you please go on with the story_?"

Jeremy messed up his son's brown hair. "That's better."

**1897**

"I'm sorry" Jeremy repeated to himself, sitting on the cold stone floor of the lair "but I can't do this. I just can't."

"A wise decision, young boy" a too well known voice said from behind him.

He winced and stood up, then he turned to Ratigan.

"I...uh...I..." he stuttered, without even know what to say.

"What are you doing here, Jeremy?" he asked coldly, folding his arms "I don't recall giving you the permission to leave your quarters."

"I was just..."

"_Just_ snooping around, weren't you?" he said, an annoyed look in his yellow eyes.

Jeremy gulped and lowered his own eyes, staring at his shoes.

"I'm..."

"I know, I know" Ratigan muttered, looking almost bored now "you're sorry. You always say that..._look at me when I'm talking to you, young boy!_" he growled.

Jeremy raised his eyes from the ground, his legs shaking.

"Much better" Ratigan muttered "now go back in your room, Jeremy. And don't dare show up until I tell you to do so."

"But..."

"_No buts_, Jeremy. Great things are going to happen very soon, and I want you to stay out of the way. Did I make myself clear enough?"

Jeremy nodded. "Yes, sir" he said with a small voice. He began to walk towards his room, then he suddenly stopped and looked back to Ratigan.

"...father?"

"What?" he said, sounding a little annoyed.

"You...won't hurt her, will you?" the little boy asked shakily.

Ratigan stared at him thoughtfully. "Why should tou care?"

"I...it' just..." Jeremy didn't know what to say.

Ratigan sighed. "I don't think it will be necessary. Now go back to your room."

"Yes, sir."

Ratigan watched as his son dissappeared behing the corner, then he shook his head.

'_He's too naive to live here. Too kindhearted, just like his mother. He wouldn't last two days in the sewers without my protection.'_

The rat shrugged, looking towards the cell where Hiram Flaversham was builting the robot. There was no reason to worry about him, now: it was just matter of a few hours before they could leave the underworld forever.

* * *

Jeremy looked up to see the Big Ben: it was almost eleven. He turned his gaze away from the clock tower. 

"_He's fallen from the Big Ben", _the henchmouse had said _"fell into the river...saw him falling with my own eyes...surely drowned..."_

The boy sat on the ground, staring blankly towards the water. He had been wandering around there for almost a hour, and there was no sign of Ratigan.

That henchmouse was right: Professor Ratigan was dead.

And he had been left alone once again.

Jeremy let out a dry sob. What was he supposed to do now? He had fled from the lair as soon as he had heard the news: without his father protecting him, the underworld was no longer a safe place for him.

He once again looked up to the clok tower wich Ratigan had fallen from. '_Did I seriously think he had somehow survived from a such fall?'_ he asked to himself, getting up and beginning to walk along the riverbank as a few raindrops began to fall.

He suddenly stopped as he saw something with the corner of the eye. He turned to see a dark, massive figure lying limply on the ground, just a few feet from the Thames' dark wather.

Jeremy felt his heart beat faster as he carefully approached the figure.

"Father?" he called out softly.

The figure did not move, but Jeremy could see him clearly now.

Ratigan was lying on his stomach in a mud puddle, his eyes closed. His clothes were torn, and his fur was soaked with wather. He had somehow menaged to gain the riverbank.

Jeremy gulped as he went next to him. He was still breathing: his breath was sharp and difficult. "Father?" he called again, putting a shaky hand on his shoulder and shaking him, trying to wake him up.

Ratigan shuddered, then he opened his eyes. He tried to move, but he let out a growl of pain and he let himself drop back in the mud. His golden eyes stared at his son.

"Here you are, young boy" he said in a husky voice after a few moments "fled rom the lair, did you?"

"Yes" he admitted "they tought you were dead, and I..."

"You made a wise move. You must get away from here, Jeremy. You're no longer safe here in London."

"But you're alive!" Jeremy exclaimed "I have no reason to..."

Despite the pain in his chest, Ratigan laughed as if it was the best joke he had ever heard. Jeremy shuddered as he heard that frightening laughter. Had he gone insane?

Ratigan's laughter ceased, and he began coughing. "I..." he gasped for breath, then he spoke hoarsely "I won't stay alive for long, Jeremy."

Jeremy felt as if somebody had stabbed him in his chest. "No!" he exclaimed, trying to hold back his tears "you're not going to die! You must try to stand up and..."

"It's useless" Ratigan said with a terrifying calmness "I'm not going to make it. Now shut up and listen to me, Jeremy."

"But..."

"No buts, boy. Just listen. Do you remember..." he coughed again "do you remember the riddle I told so many times? The one you never managed to solve?"

"Y...yes" he answered, confused. Why was he talking about that riddle?

"Good" he gave him a half-smile "you must remember that riddle, Jeremy. I'm sure you'll solve it, someday...when you'll be ready..."

His body shook as he coughed again. He closed his eyes as his breath become more and more difficult.

"Jeremy? Are you still here?" he asked quietly.

"Y...yes" Jeremy's voice was shaking as if it was on the verge of tears.

"No tears, young boy. Crying won't help you. Now listen..." he opened his eyes once again "get away from London. You're nor safe here. Run away, and only come back when you'll be grown up and strong enough to defend yourself. Will you do that?"

"Father..."

"Account this as my death wish. Promise me you will come back when you'll be stronger. Not before."

Jeremy finally began to sob, tears streaming down his face. "I promise."

"Good boy" Ratigan said in a whisper, then he let his head drop on the ground and closed his eyes for the last time.

"F...Father?" Jeremy called, touching his shoulder. Ratigan didn' move, and Jeremy realized he had stopped breathing.

A few miles away, Olivia Flaversham, exausted from the events of the day, was sleeping pacefully wrapped in her daddy's arm, a happy smile on her little face.

Little she knew that in the same moment, on the riverbank of the Thames, another child was crying huddled against his own father's dead body, once again alone in the world.


	3. Ten years later

**1919**

"Uh...dad?" Howard called softly. Jeremy had fallen silent for a few minutes, staring at the fireplace, his chin resting on his hand.

"What?" he asked, finally turning his gaze away from the fire.

"May I...ask you a question?" Haward looked a little uneasy, wich was unusual: he had always been a jaunty boy, much more than his dad had been as a child.

"Tell me."

"I was wondering...well...do you miss him, dad?"

Jeremy didn't answer immediatly. He looked at his son, biting his lower lip.

"I do" he said slowly "and I missed him terribly at the time, of course...I had no one beside him."

"You admired him" Howars stated.

"Yes, I did. And I still do. It was hard to live with him without growing to admire him, you know" Jeremy gave an odd smile.

"But...do you think he actually _cared _about you?"

Jeremy sighed.

"Honestly, I don't know. Still today, I sometimes wonder if he really cared about me. I guess he did, in his own way" he shrugged "I guess I'll never know."

There was a brief silence, then: "Well...do you want me go on with the story?"

"Yes" Howard said quikly.

"Alright, then. Now, there's nothing special to say about the next ten years. I left London that night, and within a few weeks I had left England as well. I made a fake name for myself, and travelled through half Europe. Anyway, I never forgot my father's death wish, nor the riddle he wanted me to solve. Then, about ten years later, I finally came back to London..."

**1907**

"I'm so happy we're finally back to London!" the eighteen-years-old girl exclaimed as the train stopped in the station "I can't believe we've been away for ten years!"

She was tall and slender, with soft brown fur and balck eyes. Her brown hair were tied in a short braid, who reached her shoulder blades.

Hiram Flaversham smiled to himself as his daughter jumped out of the train. Though she loved Scotland, she had missed London very much despite the bad memories, and now he was glad to see her so happy.

"Hello there" a well know voice said behind them "it has been a long time since the last time we met, hasn't it?"

Basil of Baker Street hadn't changed much during those ten years: he had just some wrinkles around his eyes, but he looked so very much the same who had helped her when she was just a little girl.

"Mr. Basil!" Olivia exclaimed, hugging him. Basil seemed surprised, but not displeased.

"Uhm...I'm glad to see you too, Miss. Flag...Flegh..."

Olivia laughed. "Flaversham! It's Flaversham!"

"Whatever."

Doctor Dawson laughed. He looked much the same Olivia remembered too, just a little older.

"Give up, Olivia, he'll never get it...well, well, look at you...my, how you grown! You've become a beautiful young lady."

Oliavia blushed slightly at the compliment.

"Then, how's the journey been?" Basil asked.

Hiram Flaversham shrugged, lifting his suitcase. "Oh, I has been goood enough. I'm just a little tired...I'm afraid I'm getting old."

"What about a nice cup of tea, then?" Dawson suggested "it's almost five o'clock, and I'm sure Mrs. Judson would be happy to serve you some of her cheese crumpets."

"Oh, _those_ cheese crumpets!" Olivia said dreamily "they're one of the most delightful things I've ever eaten!"

Basil laughed. "I must agree. Let's go to Baker Street then, Toby's waiting out here."

**1919**

Jeremy stopped talking to look towards the clock.

"Uh...dad? Why have you stopped?"

"Well, it's alomost five o'clock...what about some tea?"

Howard grinned. "With mom's cheese crumpets?"

"You just read my mind."

_About fifteen minutes later._

"Much better" Howard said, patting his stomach and taking another crumpet.

"I don't think your mother will take it too well when she'll come back and find out there are no more crumpets" Jeremy said, swallowing the last crumpet with some tea "but I think that was worth of it..."

"Hmhm..."

"No talking when your mouth is full, Howard..."

The boy rolled his eyes as he swallowed the crumpet. "Okay, okay...now can you go on with the story?"

"As you wish, boy" Jeremy said with a grin "now...where were we?"

"Mom's just come back to London" his son reminded him.

"Oh, right...now I do remember."

**1907**

"So" the old lady said, pouring a cup of tea for herself "did you relly rent the room upstairs?"

"Indeed" Mrs. Hillman, a widow in her sixthies, nodded "I rent that room to a student. He went to London the last week."

"Hm" the other lady, Mrs. Horton, sipped some tea "a student, uh? What is he studying?"

"Psysical science" Mrs. Hillman answered "he's got a lot of books, you know. I tried to read one of them once, but I couldn't understand a word. That boy has to be a genius to study that...that _stuff_."

Mrs. Horton laughed. "I agree, psysical science sounds terribly complicated to me. May I ask what is our genius' name?"

"Ratchett. Jeremy T. Ratchett."

The other lady raised an eyebrow. "Ratchett? That's an unusual name for a mouse."

"Well..." Mrs. Hillman lowered her voice "in a matter of fact, he's not a mouse."

Her friend's eyes widened as she almost dropped her cup of tea on the floor. "You mean...he is a...a _rat_?"

"Indeed."

"YOU..." Mrs. Horton stopped and lowered her voice "_you have a rat living in your boarding house?_"

Mrs. Hillman laughed softly. "You look a little surprised, my dear."

"Of course I am! A _rat_, for the Heaven's sake! He may be dangerous, and...I mean..."

"I know what you do mean" the old widow said quietly "but he's different from any rat I've ever know. He's the best tenant: he pays me three guineas a week, and no one of the others occupants of the boarding house has never complained about him."

"Really?" Mrs.Horton looked stunned.

"Yes. And he's a very polite young rat, I should add" Mrs. Hillman laughed "but he's very reserved... almost lonely. He never speaks about his family."

"That doesn' surprise me" Mrs. Horton said with a sly grin "he's rat, after all...I don't think there is much to be proud about his family."

* * *

"Mrs. Basil!" Mrs. Judson exclaimed as she saw them approaching to the house, without giving any sign to have noticed the Flaversham's: she looked terribly upset "you're finally back!"

"What happened here?" Basil asked, jumping off of Toby's back and walking towards the landlady, followed by the others.

"I...I don't know" Mrs.Judson said "I was at the market, I came back just a few minutes ago, and...I found these...scratches...on the door."

Basi looked towards his home and shuddered: on the wooden door there were a lot of deep claw marks.


	4. Welcome back to London

**1907**

"What do you think about those marks, Basil?" Dawson asked as his friend sat on his favourite armchair. Hiram and Olivia Flaversham had left Baker Street just a few minutes before.

Basil shrugged. "Well, I cannot deduce much about them...but they haven't been made with knives or some other tool, that's certain. They're surely claw marks."

"Claws..." Dawson whispered, wincing slightly. His eyes went on the picture who still was on the wall upon the fireplace.

Basil laughed, understanding what his friend was thinking about. "Now, now, Dawson" he said, sounding rather amused "you don't believe in ghosts, do you, old fellow?"

"Of course I don't" Dawson said quikly "it was just...no, it was nothing. Just let it go."

Basil looked very serious now. "You saw his body, doctor. No one can come back from death, you should know it. "

The doctor shuddered slightly at the memory: as he had seen it, Ratigan's body was covered with mud and dried blood, from the scratches and various injuries all over his body. His spinal cord had been damaged from the fall, but he hadn't died immediatly: he had still had enough strenght to gain the riverbank. He had most likely died both for the blood loss and the internal haemorrhage who had compromised his breathing system: his lungs were filled with blood.

Dawson couldn't help to take pity on him for the way he had died. No one, not even a criminal, deserved a such death, dying after a long agony with no one beside you.

The good doctor couldn't know he was wrong about that point: Ratigan hadn't died alone.

"Of course I know it" he finally said "I told you, it was nothing. Just let it go, alright? It was surely just a stupid joke. Nothing to worry about."

"Hm" Basil just reached for his violin, saying nothing, while the rain began to fall over London.

* * *

It was still raining that nigh as a massive figure wearing a dark coat, a shadow among shadows, stood in the middle of the roadway, his dust-colored fur soaked with water, staring at the scratched door of a certain apartment in Baker Street. 

It was a bitter cold night, but the figure didn't seem to care about it, uncaring even of the icy wind rushing over him, messing up his black hair. The figure didn't move for a long time, then he bent over to pick up a small rock from the ground. A pair of yellow eyes looked at it for a moment, then the figure clenched his clawed hand in a fist. As he unclenched his paw, the rock had become nothing but a dust.

_Am I strong enough now, father?_

He shook his head. What was he exactly doing there? He let the cold wind dispel the dust, then he began to walk away without giving another glance towards Basil of Baker Street's home. Somewhere in the fog the Big Ben tolled midnight, cusing the figure to wince.

_You've taken everything from me, detective: my father, my innocence, my life. Why shouldn't I take your life as well? No need of elaborathed plans or traps: I could just wait for you to come out and then leap for you, for your throat. I could rip you to shreds without much effort:_ _it's so easy to end the life of another creature_._ A quick death, Basil...much quicker than the one my father suffered because of YOU._

The shadow stopped and turned back to Baker Street, twitching his large tail.

_I acted stupid scratching you door...I made you somehow aware of my presence. But I couldn't control it, I just snapped and acted without thinking, completely by instinct. And that scares me, you know, detective? I'm scared of the part of me I cannot control...the predator hiding under my skin, claiming for his kill._

A strange laughter echoed in the foggy night as the figure walked away, disappearing in a dark alley. _And guess who is the kill he's claiming, detective? Kill you would be easy, you know. It would be fair._

_But I'm not a murderer._

_Not yet._

* * *

"Stupid rain!" Olivia cursed under her breath as she got into the book shop, closing her umbrella. It hadn't stopped raining since the day before. She had almost forgotten how often it rained in London.

The store was very crowded, mostly because of the rain. She sighed and made her way to the bookshelves, looking for some intresting novels, but she couldn't reach the books on the hightest ledge.

"Damn" she said, then she saw a ladder a few feet from her and climber on it to reach the hightest ledge. She took a book and read the title.

"Pride and Prejudice" she said to herself, tracing the title's elaborathed letters with a finger "hmm, sounds intresting...AH!"

A mouse had shoved past the ladder, knocking it to the ground. Olivia tried to hang on the bookshelf, but she lost her grip after a few moments. She closed her eyes as she fell, waiting for the impact with the floor...then somebody's strong arms caught her before she hit the ground.

"Wacth your steps, you idiot!" a deep angry voice snapped towards the mouse who had almost made her fall on the floor, then it softened as his owner spoke to her "are you alright, Miss?"

Olivia opened her eyes, and shuddered as she saw a pair of golden eyes staring at her. "Uh, I...I'm fine, thanks. I'm just a bit scared, I guess" she said rather nervously as he put her down "thanks for helping me."

"You're welcome" he just said, then he bent over to pick up the copy of _Pride and Prejudice _"I guess it's yours" he said, handig it to her.

"Oh...yes, it'mine" she said, taking back the book. She looked at the guy who had saved her, half-scared and half-fascinated.

_Tall and powerful body...thick chest, broad shoulders...sharp fangs instead of normal teeth...yellow eyes, wormlike tail..._

A rat. She had been saved by a _rat_.

Fate had sense of humor.

"Any problem, Miss?" he asked, sounding a little annoyed. He had clearly noticed the way she had looked at him. Olivia quikly shook her head.

"No, not at all. I'm sorry, I was just a little..." she tought for a moment "well..._surprised_. I hope I didn't offend you, I had no means..."

He just shrugged. "Don't worry, I'm not offended. I can understand you're surprised" he said bitterly, walking away.

"Wait!" she suddenly exclaimed, hurring after him. He stopped, perking up his ears. It sounded somehow familiar.

"What?" he asked, half-turning towards her.

"I must apologize to you" she said, approaching to him. Good lord, he was so much taller than her! "You helped me, and I've been terribly rude. I didn't even introduce myself. My name is Olivia Flaversham" she said, holding out her hand to him.

He blinked once again. Her name too sounded familiar, as if he had already heard it, many years ago...but he couldn't remember when.

"I'm Jeremy Ratchett" he said, shaking her hand "_enchanté_."

"Uh...I beg your pardon?"

Jeremy laughed. "It's french. Nice to meet you."

"You do speak french?" she asked, fascinated.

"Yes. I've lived in France for a couple of years."

"Really? I've never been in France" she said, sounding impressed "have you been in Paris?"

"Yes, I spent about seven months there. Lovely city. And very comfortable sewers, I should add" he said, winking at her.

Olivia laughed. "Yes, I've heard about the Parisian sewers" she said, then she looked out from the store and noticed it had stopped raining "listen, Mr. Ratchett...there's a nice coffee house near here. May I invite you to drink something...just to thank you?"

Jeremy shook his head. "You don't have to do this, you know."

"Of course I know. I'm not inviting you because I have to – I'm doing this because I want to" she simply replied "if you will accept the invitation, of course."

Jeremy raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid my presence would shock most of the coffee house's costumers."

"And you do care about their reaction?" Olivia asked with a grin.

Jeremy grinned back. "Well...I guess I don't."

"Good" she said cheerfully "let's go, then. The coffee house is just behind the corner."

"Uhm...Miss Flaversham?"

"It's Olivia" she said "no need of formalities."

"Alright, then...aren't you going to pay for that book before we go, Olivia?"

"Uh?"

Olivia looked down and noticed she still had the copy of _Pride and Prejudice _in her hands "Oh, my...I completely forgot about the book" she laughed, heading towards the cash desk "just wait a second, I'll be back in no time...looks like you prevented me from becoming a thief!"

Jeremy just smiled to himself.

_A damn pretty thief, in my humble opinion..._

* * *

**1919**

"And that's how you got your first date?" Howard asked with a sly grin.

Jeremy shrugged. "Technically it wasn't a real date...but yes, that's how we met the first...well, the _second_ time."

"But how could you not recognize the each other?" the boy asked.

"We had only met one time ten years before, and just for a few moments. It's not so odd that we didn't..."

"Yes, but she told you her surname was Flaversham!" Howard exclaimed, theatrically jumping down from his father's knees to emphasize his words "how could you don't remember about that surname?"

"Father never told me about his plans for the Diamond Jubilee, and at the time the newspapers didn't publicised the toymaker's name in order to protect him and his daughter. I had never got to know his name."

Howard sighed. "Alright, then…what happened next?"

"Do you really want to know what happened next?"

"Of course I do!"

"Then sit back down and shut up."


	5. First date

**1907**

"You're kidding!" Olivia laughed, barely aware that everyone in the coffee house was looking towards them, turning away theys gaze as their eyes met Jeremy's golden ones.

The rat seemed anything but intimidated from their evident distrust towards him: he just kept his attention focused on the girl sitting in front of him. It seemed he couldn't care less about them.

Jeremy Ratigan – or Ratchett, your choose – was definitely not the yelling kind. He didn't use to emit sounds with no meaning: he just wasn't a talkative person. Besides, there were some subjects he wasn't willing to talk about, and his past was usually one of those...but now he wasn't displeased by Olivia's evident interest about it. She looked really curious about his ten years of travelling: it seemed she had never been abroad before.

"No, I'm serious" Jeremy smiled "you really have to go to Germany to understand what a drunken German can do...do you mind if I smoke?"

"Not at all."

"Good" Jeremy lighted a cigarette and inhaled deeply, then he leaned back on the chair and released a cloud of smoke.

"I must admit your life has been quite interesting as far" Olivia said, her chin resting on her hand "when did you went to London?"

"Last week."

"And why? I mean...weren't you happy in Germany?"

Jeremy fell silent for a while, staring blankly at the smoke rising from his cigarette. He had came back to London to honour his father's death wish and think about the solution of that blasted riddle...and that was definitely not something he could talk about. And no, he wasn't happy in Germany. Nor he had been in France, Spain, Italy, Holland...he didn't recall to have ever been happy anywhere. He had often found himself missing his life in London's sewers. As a child he had missed it because in the London's underworld he had felt sheltered from the world outside. A birdie missing his safe cage.

Now he wasn't a child anymore, and he didn't need his anyone's protection...but still, he had never found any other place he could consider his home.

Olivia felt terribly stupid seeing his reaction. "I...I'm sorry, I asked without thinking" she said quickly "I had no rights to ask you such a private question."

He shook his head. "Nevermind, I was just a little thoughtful. I am the one who has to apologize. It has been very rude from me letting you wait for an answer so long. I'm in London to study chemical physics."

"It sounds terribly complicated to me" Olivia said, sounding impressed. Jeremy shook his head.

"It's not _that_ difficult, you know. It just soundscomplicated, but you really don't need to be some sort of genius to..." he stopped, seeing the look on Olivia's face.

"Well, perhaps it can be a bit difficult to undestand if you're not good in scientific subjects..." he admitted.

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "Just a bit?" she asked ironically.

Jeremy extinguished his cigarette into the ashtray. "Alright, it's a terribly complicated subject and you must be very smart to study it" said with a grin "I just didn't want to boast too much about it."

She laughed, then she looked at him. "You're a student, then" she said "are you going to stay here in London for long?"

"I guess so, at least for the whole year. Now, what about you? I've talked about me for an hour, and I still don't know anything about you."

Olivia shrugged. "Well, there isn't much to say. I was born in Aberdeen, Scotland, eighteen years ago. My mother died shortly after my birth, and my father and I moved in London. I've lived in London with my father until I was eight, then..." she stopped for a moment, unsure, then she decided to not speak about the Diamond Jubilee accident: she didn't want to tell him about that dreadful experience "well, we moved in Scotland about ten years ago. We came back in London a couple of days ago."

"And what are you planning to do now?"

Olivia shrugged. "Well, I'm studying English literature at the moment. I would like to become a teacher, someday."

"I'm sure you will make a good teacher" he said, almost without thinking. She blushed slightly.

"Thanks" she said, then she looked out of the window and noticed it was getting dark "oh, my...what time is it?"

Jeremy looked at his poket watch. "It's almost seven."

"I have to go" she said, reluctantly getting up "it's late, my father will be worried about me. I told him I would be away just a hour or so..."

"I may accompany you home" he said, getting up "London can be dangerous when it's dark."

_And trust me, I know – _he tought.

"That's not necessary...I don't want to bother you any further."

"Hey, it's my pleasure" he said with a shrug "I insist."

"Alright, then. Let's go before it starts raining again."

**1919**

"Aww" Howard grinned sarcastically "sooo cute, I just love romantic stories...I think I need a handkerchief, ya know."

"You just need a blow on your head" Jeremy said dryly "now, as I was saying..."

"Hey, dad" his son interrupted him, pulling his red cravat "you know what? I'm sure I would have solved the riddle in no time!"

"Looks like modesty is not your strong point..." his father said ironically, straightening his cravat.

Howard Ratigan grinned. "Modesty is for losers. And I'm most definitely NOT a loser."

Jeremy looked at his son thoughtfully. "You know, you are much more similar to my father than I ever was."

"Oh" Howard thought for a moment "er...is this a compliment?"

"Maybe" Jeremy said with an odd smile "maybe so."

**1907**

"That's my home" Olivia said, gesturing towards the opposite sidewalk "well...I've been really pleased to know you" she held out his hand, feeling a little uneasy. She had actually enjoyed Jeremy's company a lot, and she found herself being unwilling to leave him now.

"It has been my pleasure" he said, shacking her hand. He exitated for a moment, then: "Listen...maybe we could...you know, meet again one of those days."

Olivia held back a smile.

_Yes!_

"I'd be glad to meet you again" she said "what about Tuesday at five o'clock? Same place."

"It's perfect" he told her "then...see you soon."

"Yes" she said in a whisper as he walked away "soon."

* * *

"Hey, dad" Olivia said, closing the door behind her "I'm home!" 

"Oh, here you are" Hiram Flaversham said with a slight sigh of relief "where have you been? I was getting worried."

"Sorry, dad, I didn't mean to worry you, it's just..." she exitadet, to sure of how her father would have react knowing she had spent most of the afternoon with a rat.

"What?"

_There's no reason to tell him about Jeremy. After all, nothing happened._

_Nothing._

"It was raining hard, so I spent some time in a coffee house until the rain stopped" she finally said. It wasn't even a lie.

"Oh" Hiram seemed relieved "alright, then" he said as his daughter got into her room closing the door behind her.

Olivia put her coat off and sat on her bed. She looked absently at the book as her lips curled in a smile.

_It's Friday. Just three days to Tuesday._

_Just three days._

Her smile didn't fade as she opened her book and began to read.

* * *

Jeremy remained thoughtful for all the way to the boarding house he lived in. 

_Maybe I shoulnd't have asked to see her again. I should only focus my attention on that riddle, not waste my time like this. What's the use, anyway? She wouldn't have spent the afternoon with me if she had knew who I am._

He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, feeling the wind rushing over him.

_On the other hand, I've got a lot of time to solve that riddle...and she's definitely not going to find out my true name._

But he was wrong on both of things.

**1919**

"But, dad" Howard interrupted him once again "why didn't grandfather just tell you everything instead of telling you that blasted riddle?"

"I guess he tought a child couldn't handle it" Jeremy said "he wanted me to find it out when I was mature enough to solve the riddle."

"Hmm...I don't know. What if you didn't solve the riddle at all, then? Didn't he think about this eventuality?"

"Well..." Jeremy didn't really know what to say.

Howard made a face. "Even though you say he was a genius, he still sounds kinda dumb to me."

Jaremy gave his son an annoyed glare. "You know, the only thing keeping me from squashing you like a fly right now is my instinct to ensure my bloodline's survival, little one..."


	6. Scarred Jack

**1907**

Jeremy stopped as a cry came to his ears. He looked around to the desert-looking sidewalk: there was no one in sight. He shrugged: maybe it had been just his imagination...

"_No, please! DON'T!" _

...or maybe not. A woman's terrified voice came from behind the corner of the street, followed by a frightening laughter. Jeremy's eyes perked up. That laughter...that couldn't be a mouse's laughter. It was too deep, too thunderous.

His suspiciones were confirmed as a familiar scent came to his nostrils.

No, that was definitely _not _a mouse.

"Please, don't!" the woman was crying "please, don't hurt me! I have children! Let me go!"

A low growl escaped from Jeremy's troath as he ran towards the place where the voices were coming from.

"ENOUGH!" he shouted.

"What the heck..." a large rat with dark brown fur had cornered a woman, who was crying with her hand covering her face. The rat blinked as he saw Jeremy, then he seemed to relax as he recognized him as one of his kind. "Your timing couldn't be more perfect, mate" he said, baring his fangs "I was just gonna have dinner...I haven't eaten fresh meat since a very long time. Wanna join? There's enough for both of us..."

The rat licked his lips, looking towards the woman. Her eyes flashed to Jeremy, then she began to cry louder. She couldn't be older than twenty. "Please, sir..." she begged "_please_..."

The rat growled. "Look, look, now I'm a 'sir', am I? No longer a piece of scum, hmm?" he looked towards Jeremy "you can have a leg if ya want. I'll take the shoulders, I like chewing 'em...by the way, my name's Glenn, pal."

"I'm Jeremy. And I'm not your pal" Jeremy said quietly, a disgusted look on his face "let her go."

"_What_?" the rat looked at him, an astonished look on his ugly snout "are ya kiddin' or what?"

"Let her go. Now." Jeremy's voice was steady and commanding.

Glenn snarled at him. "Now, now" he said "I know what you're plannin' to do...steal my kill, ya want. Well, forget it – this is _my_ kill!"

Jeremy snarled back, baring his sharp teeth. "Now you'll apologize to her" he said "then you'll let her go home...and maybe I'll let you live. Otherwise, _you_ could become _my _kill."

The woman looked at him, seeming even more astonished than her captor.

"You..." the rat was boiling with rage. He took a step towards him, standing on all fours "you're protecting her...you're protecting a mouse! _You're betraying your own kind_!"

"Step back and let her go" Jeremy repeated with a growl. He tensed his muscles and put himself on all fours as well, getting ready for the fight.

Glenn took another a step towards him, obliviuos of his kill, his eyes fixed on Jeremy. The woman took advantage of his distraction and ran away, but he didn't seem to care about her anymore. "Ya traitor!" he spat "what do ya think? Do ya think that if ya pretend to be one of 'em, they'll welcome ya among 'em? Ya fool! Mark my words, boy: they'll _never_ accept us!"

_No wonder why_, Jeremy tought sarcastically.

"I'm not like you" Jeremy growled, lashing his tail as they began circling each other. He was not afraid: gone was the fearful, quivering little boy he had once been. He had died ten years before, the night of the Diamond Jubilee.

"No, you're not like me" the other rat growled, getting ready to strike "you're my next dinner, boy...dead meat!"

He suddenly leapt forward, his claws ready to strike. Jeremy grinned to himself. He was slow. Too slow.

He leapt backwards just in time as the rat landed on the spot where he had been moments ago, then he leapt upon him and buried his claws into his shoulders's flesh, using his weigh to pin him on the ground. Glenn screamed in pain and struggled to get himself free, just succeeding to tear his own flesh even more.

"Dead meat, am I?" Jeremy growled, then he buried his teeth into his enemy's back. He gave another scream, then he fell on the ground, where he stayed unmoving.

"Tell me, _pal_" Jeremy said in a much calmer tone, standing on his hind legs again and looking down to him "who's the kill, now?"

"What..." the rat tried to stand up, but he couldn't move anything "what have ya done to me?"

"Don't worry, it's nothing serious. I just bite a certain muscle on your back. You'll be paralyzed for a few minutes, then you'll be alrigh...exept for your bruised ego, of course."

The rat seemed surprised. "You're not going to kill me?"

"I'm not a murderer" Jeremy said dryly, cleaning up his blood-stained muzzle with a hankerchief and walking away "remember that."

The rat gave him an astonished glare. "What...what kind of rat are ya?"

Jeremy grinned at him. "I'm one of a kind" he said as he vanished into the growing shadows of the evening.

**1919**

"You shouldn't have told him your name" Howard said "you would have avoided a bunch of troubles."

Jeremy sighed. "Yes, but at the time I couldn't know..."

"A _hudge _bunch of troubles, I should add" Howard cut him off, grinning "you made a big mess, dad..."

His father gave him an annyed look. "No need to rub it in, you know."

"Oooo-kaay..." Howard said, then he shifted into a more comfortable position on his father's knees "so, dad, that's when Scarred Jack shows up, isn't it?"

"Not exactly. I had already met him when I was barely seven years old..."

"Then tell me!" the boy exclaimed "please, please, please..."

"Howard?" Jeremy said quietly, rubbing his temples.

"What?"

"I'm not going to tell you anything if you don't keep that stupid mouth of yours shut."

"...okay..."

**1896**

The little boy couldn't recall how long he had kept running blindly through the dark maze of the underworld. He couldn't even think clearly: his young mind was blurred with fear and confusion.

_I must go away from here. If I stay, I'll be eaten from his cat sooner or later. Just like that mouse. The bell. He rang the bell. And when the bell rings, the cat eats._

_I had never seen anyone die before._

_I don't want to be the next one._

Jeremy stopped running, his legs shaking, and looked around. He hadn't the slightest notion of where he was: he had lost his way. Well, he had never had a way.

"I'm lost" he whispered to himself. Jeremy swallowed and sat down in a corner, exausted. He shut his eyes and curled up into himself, trying to make himself as small as possible, and chocked back a sob. How much time had passed since his escape? Had Ratigan already found out he had fled from the lair? Was he already looking for him, ready to ring his bell to punish him for his escape? What was he supposed to do now?

"Look, look" a husky voice came from the darkness "looks like somebody lost his way..."

Jeremy shuddere and opened his eyes to see a blood-red eye staring at him. "I...I..." he stuttered, getting on his feet and taking a step back.

"Oh, don't be afraid little one" the voice said as its owner came closer "don't run away, it would be useless..."

Jeremy could see him more clearly now. He was a rat, as large as his father was. He had jet black fur and slightly graying hair. On the left side of his face ran three parallel pink scars, one of wich had caught his eye, who was tightly shut. His other eye was as red as blood, and the madness that burned in that eye made Jeremy tremble.

"Now, little one" he said, staring at him with his blood-red eye "what's your name?"

"I..." Jeremy exitated, then he decided to tell him the truth: maybe, being Ratigan's son could protect him from that frightening rat "my name's Jeremy Ratigan."

A deep growl came from the rat as he heard his surname. "Ratigan? Did you just say Ratigan?" he asked, moving darkly towards him.

The little boy swallowed hard, realizind he had made a bad mistake. He took a step back.

"So, it's you" the rat was staring at him with a rage Jeremy had never seen before "I've heard about you. You're his son...you're the son of the traitor. DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT ESCAPING, BOY!" he barked as Jeremy took another step back. The little boy froze, and the rat grinned.

"Very well" he said huskily "you know, little one...I once happened to have some arguments that traitor of your father. You can see my face, don't you, young boy? HE did this to me!" he barked out the last words, causind Jeremy to wince.

"Please, sir" he said shakily "I didn't...I didn't do anything!"

"No, you didn't" he grinned "but your father did. And you know how it works: Sins of the Father..."

"Enough, Jack" a commanding voice came from behind them "get away from my son before I give you another scar to match the ones you already have on your face".

Both Jeremy and Scarred Jack turned to see Professor Ratigan standing a few feet from them, his arms folded.

The rat growled at him, forgetting about Jeremy. "James..."

The momentary distraction was all that Jeremy needed: in a blink of eye, he had run away from the red eyed rat and beside his father.

"Father, I..." he began to say, but Ratigan cut him off.

"I'll deal with you later" he said sharply, then he looked back to Scarred Jack "very well, Jack...it has been a long time since the last time we met, hasn't it?"

"Damn you, you traitor!" the other rat barked "I should have ripped you life away from you when I had the chance!"

Ratigan chuckled. "Temper, old boy. Temper" he said "first of all, you _never_ had a chance to kill me...I did. I could have easily killed you during our last figh, the one who costed you your eye, but as you can see I let you live. You should be grateful to me for that, you know."

"Grateful to _you_!" Scarred Jack spat "never! How could I be grateful to somebody who disowned his own kind?"

"Oh, I never had to disown any kind, you know...I can safely say I'm one of a kind."

"You just disgust me, James!"

"I assure you the feeling is mutual" Ratigan said quietly "now, if you don't have anything else to say, I warmly suggest you to leave...before I decide to take your life as I should have done many years ago, of course" he said, pulling out his bell from his pocket.

Scarred Jack gave him a furious look, then he finally stepped back into the darkness.

"Mark my words, James" his voice came from the distance "you're not invincible! You will fall, someday...and then I'll be there to enjoy you downfall!"

As his laugher faded in the dephts of the sewers, Ratigan turned his gaze to his son.

"Now" he said, trying to not snap "would you please explain me what were you trying to do?"

He still had the bell in his hand, and Jeremy began to tremble.

"I'm sorry, sir, I was afraid...I..." he swallowed "please, don't ring the bell..." he begged pityfully.

"The bell?" Ratigan looked at the bell in his hand as if he didn't know how it had come to be there, then he began to laugh "of course, now I do understand...you saw me ring the bell, you saw Felicia eating that idiot...you had never seen anyone die before. You were afraid, and then you fled."

Jeremy nodded, relieved to see that Ratigan didn't seem upset for his escape anymore. "Yes, sir."

"Hmm" Ratigan stared at him for a moment, then he sighed and put his bell back into his pocket "alright, young boy. Let's go home" he said, walking away. The little boy quickly followed him.

"Father?" he dared to call after a few minutes.

"What?"

"Who was that guy? Why did he hate you so much?"

"It's a long story, Jeremy. Just let it go" he stayed silent for a moment, then: "don't dare to leave the lair again without telling me, Jeremy. He almost killed you today."

Jeremy swallowed. "I'll never leave the lair again" he promised.

There were a few minutes of silence before Ratigan spoke.

"I won't be here forever, Jeremy."

The boy gave him a confused look. "Uh?"

Ratigan stopped walking and glared down at him. "I cannot protect you forever, boy. You must learn to take care of yourself, sooner or later."

Jeremy lowered his eyes. "I'm afraid that's not my place, sir" he said with a small voice.

"I know" Ratigan turned his gaze away from him and spoke almost to himself "but sometimes you happen to be stuck inside a world you don't belong...a world you _hate_. And you cannot just run away, because something will always come back to hunt you...and you'll have to face it. Remember that, Jeremy."

The little boy nodded. "I will, sir."


	7. Chapter 7

**1907**

Glenn sighed in relief as he passed through the secret passage and vanished in the darkness. He finally felt home: the Forgotten Kingdom had always been a safe shelter to the ones of his kind when they needed to hide from the world outside.

"Who's there?" a growl came from the darkness.

"It's Glenn" the rat snarled as dark-furred rat stepped towards him "don't ya recognize me?"

"I do recognize ya, brother" the other rat said, then he noticed the fresh wounds upon his back and shoulders "what happened to ya, pal? You look like you've passed through a meat grinder!"

"I need to talk with _him_" Glenn snarled "I met a traitor of our kind today."

The other rat growled, foam dripping from his muzzle. "Another fool who thinks he can become one of _them_, ya mean?"

"This one is different. He's a _dangerous_ fool, Thad. HE did this to me, to protect one of them"

Thad blinked. "He must be a skilled fighter, if he did this to ya."

"He is. We cannot let him live. Bring me to him, Thad. Now."

The other rat nodded. "Follow me."

* * *

"Did you want to talk to me, Glenn?" a husky voice asked. A red eye was staring at him from the darkness. 

"Yeah, sir" Glenn said "I met a traitor today. We had a fight, 'cause he didn't want me to hurt a _mouse_" he spat the last word like poison "he reduced me to this state. We cannot let him live."

"You're right" Scarred Jack answered in a growl "we cannot let traitors live. Did he tell you his name?"

"Yeah, it was…" the rat scrunched his brow "Jamie? Jeremiah? It was something close…"

Jack's only eye widened. "Maybe it was…Jeremy?" he suggested in a harsh whisper.

"Yeah!" Glenn exclaimed "I was sure it was something like this…do you know him, sir?" Glen asked uncertainly.

"Maybe so. How does he look like?"

"Well..." Glenn thought for a moment "he has grey fur, with a darker spot on his throat…black nose, yellow eyes and..."

"And black hair" Scarred Jack finished for him "am I right?"

The other rat nodded. "Yeah, sir. Black hair. Have ya already met him?"

"Yes, I did meet him...many years ago, when he was still a cub. A traitor, he's become. Just like his father" he grinned, baring his sharp fangs "looks like I'm gonna have my revenge, after all...the sins of the father fall on the son."

Scarred Jack laughed, a dreadful laughter whom echoed in the darkness.

**1919**

"Dad?"

"What _now_?"

"I'm hungry."

"You've already eaten, Howard. Just wait for dinner like any normal…well…"

"Yeah, any normal _what_? Rat? Mouse? Hybrid?"

"…_person_. Just wait for dinner like any normal person."

**1907**

Jeremy bit his lower lip, walking back and forth in front of the coffee house. He looked at his pocket watch for the fifth time in ten minutes. It was ten past five. She was late.

Or maybe she just wasn't going to show up. He ran a paw through his hair with a frustrated sigh, feeling like a fool for thrusting her. Of course she wasn't going to show up, what was he expecting? That she would _really_ want to see him again? Aw, _please_! He should have known she was lying. Which mouse lady in her right mind would have spent another afternoon with...

"Guess who!" a familiar voice said cheerfully as somebody behind him covered his eyes.

"...uh?"

He turned around to see Olivia standing behind him, her lips curled in a smile as if she was actually _pleased_ to see him.

_Oh, well. Looks like miracles can happen._

* * *

Olivia had suggested to have a walk in the park, since the sun had bothered to show up in London for the first time in the past two weeks, and Jeremy had been glad to accept: he wasn't exactly _dying_ to confront the coffee houses' costumers again. No one of them would have never dared to insult him on his face, but the fear and the distrust in their eyes hurt him much more than spoken words. 

"I'm sorry for the delay" she said as they sat beneath a tree "but I had to make an excuse for my father. He's a little...overprotective."

That was true: Hiram Flaversham had always been protective towards his only daughter, and after the Diamond Jubilee accident he had become even more concerned about her. The whole thing was beginning to bother her: she wasn't a little girl anymore, for the heaven's sake! She was a grown mouse, and she needed her autonomy. She should have to speak with him about this sooner or later.

Jeremy shrugged. That was not a surprise: overprotective or not, he doubted there was any mouse that could be happy know his daughter was dating a rat. He felt somehow flattered by the fact she had lied to her father to meet him. "Nevermind, I do understand" he said, looking at the for-once-blue sky, then he added a little bitterly "you're very lucky to have a father who cares so much about you, you know."

"Well...yes, I guess so" Olivia said uncertainly. The hint of sadness in his voice made her wonder about his family: he had never told her anything about his parents or any other relative. Jeremy seemed to understand what she was thinking.

"My father died when I was eight" he explained before she could ask anything.

Olivia felt terribly guilty for complaining about her father in front of him.

"Oh...I'm really sorry, I…" she said, feeling terribly sorry for him "I didn't mean to…"

He just waved his hand "Hey, no problem. You couldn't know about that" he said "it's my fault…I had no rights to bother you with my past troubles."

"But I shouldn't have spoken without thinking. I'm really sorry for your loss…I know how it feels. I have barely knew my mother, and I have very few memories of her…but still I often found myself mourning for her."

He just nodded, staring blankly at the ground for a moment or two, thinking about his own mother. At least Olivia had some memories of her mother, while he had never got to know his. She had died giving birth to him.

_She died because of you_ – his grandmother had often told him – _if it weren't for you, my daughter would be still alive. It's your fault she's dead._

Jeremy shuddered as he felt Olivia's hand resting on his shoulder. Lost in his memories, he had almost forgotten her presence. "Jeremy, did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"I'm sure I heard something…like a child crying" she said, standing up. She looked around to see a little boy sobbing beneath another tree.

"Aw, poor little thing…" she said, then she looked at Jeremy "do you mind if I ask him what's wrong?"

He shrugged. "No problem, I've got the whole day. I think I'll wait for you here, I don't want to scare the kid out of his wits" he added with a grin.

Olivia just nodded. "I'll be back in no time" she said as she went to the sobbing kid.

"Hello there" Jeremy heard her say as she approached the kid "what's wrong, little one?"

The rat looked at her thoughtfully as she raised the kid's chin with a hand and gently wiped off his tears.

_She's sweet _– he thought to himself – _and caring. And beautiful. Man, she's wonderful. And she' s dating me. I must be the luckiest rat in the whole Mousedom._

"Jeremy!" her voice calling his name trailed his thoughts off. She was looking towards him, her hand resting on the kid's shoulder "may I ask you a favour?"

Jeremy quickly got on his feet. "Yes, of course. Ask me anything."

* * *

"No way" Jeremy said, folding his arms ad pretending to be oblivious of the kid who was looking at him with a mixture of fear, wonder and hope "I'm not going up there. Forget it." 

"Aw, c'mon" Olivia repeated for the seventh time, her hand still on the little boy's shoulder "can't you see he's crying? You just have to recover his kite from that tree..."

"JUST to recover the kite?" he said sarcastically, looking towards the tree. The kite was hitched on the tree's highest branch. And that was a _really_ high tree. It made him feel as small as a fly.

Olivia gave him a quizzical look. "Wait...you're not afraid of highs, are you?"

"I'm not!" he exclaimed a little too quickly.

"Yes you are!" she laughed "you're afraid of highs!"

"I'm not afraid!" he repeated, a little childishly.

"You are!"

"I'm not!"

"You a..."

"Alright then!" he exclaimed, approaching the tree "fine! I'll get that blasted kite back. Happy?"

"Yeah!" the little boy exclaimed, looking fascinated as he began to climb upon the tree.

Olivia laughed. "See? You've got a fan, Jeremy.

"Oh, that makes me feel _soo_ much better..." he said sarcastically, hanging on a branch with his claws "at least, if I fall and break my neckbone I'll know who blame for that."

"C'mon, stop being so pessimistic...you're a quite good climber, you know" she said "just don't look down."

_She's right, old boy. You're doing well. Just don't... _

Jeremy gulped, suddenly aware of what he was doing.

_... look down._

Jeremy felt a chill running up his spine as he gazed down. He had never been so high before: from up there, Olivia didn't seem much bigger than an ant.

_**You shouldn't have told me to not look down!**_

Jeremy's vision seemed to split in two, and his heart began to beat faster and faster as fear overcame him. He felt his knees weakening as he began to lose his grip on the branch. Out of reflex he buried his claws further into the bark and shut his eyes.

"Jeremy!" Olivia's voice sounded worried now "are you alright?"

_No, I think I'm going to die._

"I'm fine" he managed to say in a fairly calm voice, opening his eyes. He felt furious with himself for letting his own fear overcame him. Over the years, he had trained himself to control his fears...but he had never managed to defeat his fear of the highs.

Too many nightmares.

_Forget about your nightmares, big idiot – _he tough angrily to himself_ – you're just pathetic! You're not your father, and that's not the Big Ben. It's just a tree. You have just to take a stupid kite from this stupid tree and give it back to that stupid child down there. Nothing difficult. Be careful, and everything will be fine. Now go on and do it!_

Olivia bit he lower lip as Jeremy continued to climb on the tree, cursing herself for being a such airhead.

_I shouldn't have asked him to climb up there. It's too dangerous. What if he gets hurt? It would be only my fault! I'll never forgive myself if he gets hurt!_

The little boy beside her pulled her sleeve to catch her attention. "Do you think you boyfriend will succeed to take my kite back?" he asked.

Olivia gently patted his head. "Yes, I'm sure he will…" she suddenly stopped, blushing "he's _not_ my boyfriend!"

"He's not?" the kid asked innocently "but you acted as if you were…and why are you blushing?"

"I'm not blushing, it's just…it's really hot today, isn't it?" she lied, then she looked back at the three "look, Jeremy has almost reached your kite."

The little boy gazed up and nodded. "I see" he said cheerfully, then he added under his breath "but I still think he's your boyfriend…"

Jeremy took a deep breath as he finally climbed upon the highest branch. He was just a few feet from that blasted kite.

_Here you are, big boy._

Jeremy extended his hand, reaching or the kite…

_A little closer...just a little closer…_

"Gotcha!" he exclaimed as his hand finally grabbed the kite. His smile of triumph quickly vanished as he heard a crackling sound coming from beneath him. The thin branch was breaking under his weight.

_Looks like I'm going to have a very easy descent._

* * *

"Look on the bright side, Jeremy" Olivia said, trying her hardest to not burst into laughs as Jeremy shook himself dry "at least, that kid got his kite back." 

Jeremy just snorted, his fur still dripping with water. He was definitely _not_ amused.

"And besides" she added, trying to cheer him up "it's really hot today…how bad can a nice dive in the fountain be?"

"A _nice dive_?"

She bit her lower lip, still trying to not laugh. "C'mon, stop sulking…at least you didn't get hurt. What do you think would have happened if you hit the ground instead?"

Jeremy gazed up a the three and shivered at the thought. "I guess I've been very lucky" he admitted.

"You're guessing right" Olivia said, then she chuckled a little "to be afraid of highs is not a shame, you know…"

"I'm not…" he began, but she duct-taped his mouth shut.

"Alright, alright, you're not afraid" she said a little mockingly, then she become more serious "look, I'm sorry I made you climb up there. I made you risk your life without thinking and…well, I acted really stupid. I'm sorry."

Jeremy raised his eyebrow. "Wait a moment…you almost made me break my neckbone, and everything you can say is that you are 'sorry'?"

"Well…yes. What else should I say?" Olivia asked, feeling a little uneasy.

"Hmm…" he scratched his chin, pretending to think, a smirk widening on his face "try with: 'Jeremy, I beg for your forgiveness and I promise I'll bow before you every day for the rest of my life' or something close…"

Olivia laughed. "And I did really think you were serious!" she mocked him, pinching his black nose.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing his nose.

"This will teach you to not keep me in suspense!"

He winked at her "But I _was _serious…" he joked, then he shivered as a blow of wind rushed over him.

Olivia looked worried now. "You have to go home and dry yourself off, or you'll get a cold" she said, a little reluctantly to let him go so soon.

Jeremy just nodded, looking unwilling to leave. "I guess you're right…" he said, a bit uncertainly, then he cleared his throat "I was thinking…if you are not busy, this Friday…"

"No, I'm not busy. I have nothing to do Friday" she said quickly, without even letting him finish the sentence "nothing at all. Why?"

He smiled, a little surprised but not displeased of her reaction. "Well…do you like theatre?"


End file.
